


Bittersweet

by Xyven



Category: No Fandom
Genre: Bad Boys, Boys In Love, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Friends With Benefits, Gay, Gay Sex, Humor, Inspired by Roleplay/Roleplay Adaptation, M/M, Male Homosexuality, One Night Stands, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-30
Updated: 2019-05-01
Packaged: 2020-02-10 14:23:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18662167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xyven/pseuds/Xyven
Summary: Alexander Black just wanted to get laid.No questions. No demands. No commitments.After being convinced by his best friend to try his luck at a local gay club -It was his birthday, he deserved a little present, right? - Alex finds himself out of his element in more ways than one. Lucky - or unlucky - for him, Tristan Kemp is an experienced fisherman and before long he has Alex hooked. Things seem to be going well until Tristan finds out Alex is deaf. Now Mr. Playboy can't seem to run away fast enough. Humiliated and angry, Alex's had enough of Tristan's shit and decides to go home. Alone. That is until Tristan decides to offer him a ride.Just one ride. Just one night.





	1. An Unexpected Encounter

**Author's Note:**

> These are the replies from a roleplay me and a good friend are in the middle of. Due to this, the story is formatted in a way that each chapter is told from the perspective of another character, sometimes repeating or directly responding to something that may have happened in the previous chapter.

Tristan pulled up in his black jeep, the windshield wipers whirring as he parked in the back of the club.

“Shit, it’s still raining,” Tristan complained before cutting the engine.

“What are you worried about?” Nate asked. “Now you get to have that “just stepped out of the shower” look.”

“/Now/ my shirt will be sticking to me all night...” he paused and tapped his chin smirking. “Oh, I guess that’s not so bad.” Nate snorted shaking his head before he fixed his dark hair in the mirror for the third time that night.

“How does it look?” he asked Tristan.

“Like utter shit,” Tristan answered. The man frowned, looking hurt before Tristan grinned and leaned in to kiss him softly. “Just kidding, Natty, it looks good. You look hot.”

“Liar,” Nate whispered back. Tristan gave him a half smile before he leaned in. Nate puckered his lips, and Tristan studied him from up close. The man’s dark wavy hair fell over his brow. His blue eyes shining. His pink lips wet from the kiss and high cheekbones were pinched. The expression on Nate's face made it appear more angular. More masculine than Tristan knew to be true.

Tristan pretended he was going to kiss Nate again, but at the last second, he reached up and squeezed Nate’s jaw, giving him duck lips.

"Are you gonna act like the ugly fucking duckling the whole night?" he narrowed his dark eyes.

"Depends..." Nate slurred.

"On?"

"On how many pills you've got," Tristan smirked before he pulled back and pulled a small baggie out of his pocket, shaking it in front of Nate's face.

"Ask and you shall receive." Tristan released him. “Let’s go, princess.” He gave Nate’s face a light slap before he turned and unlocked the doors. He grabbed his keys and his wallet and made his way out of the car and down the darkened alleyway.

The rain poured down on them, but his leather jacket protected him from the worst of it. Still, his hair was damp when they entered the club.

The music blared around them, disco lights whirling and the dance floor bumping.

“Jesus, it’s not even eleven o’clock yet and it’s already packed.”

“It’s sausage Saturday!” Tristan yelled back to Nate, heading over to the bar. "Where the wieners are smoking hot!" He mocked the cheesy tag line that was plastered on every ad circulating the gay district of Philadelphia for the event. He personally would have gone with something that reminded him more of ass fucking than family barbecues, but, not everyone could be as unsubtle as Tristan.

“Kelly!” Nate exclaimed when they saw their friend ordering a drink.

“Nate, Tristan!” the flamboyant man called back. He wore a bright pink tank top and black leather pants. “I didn’t know you guys were coming tonight, I would have ridden with you.”

“It was intentional that you didn’t know,” Tristan answered. He thanked God they didn't have to walk in with pretty in pink.

“No it wasn’t,” Nate assured Kelly, giving Tristan a scowl. “I actually wasn’t going to come, but Tristan-”

“Let me guess, he talked you into it.” Nate pressed his lips together before he rolled his eyes.

“So I’m a pushover, sue me,” he shouted when the music began to intensify.

“You’re not so much as a pushover, as much as you want /him/ to push you over!” Kelly yelled back. At that Nate blushed, but Tristan chose to ignore it. He ordered himself and Nate two shots and peered over the crowd looking for his prey. There was the usual daddy's and twinks, but also a few old fucks looking to relive their youth.

'Did him...did him....did him....'

For Tristan, it seemed like there was no one he hadn't done these days.

Several drinks later, and the addition of their fourth friend Vick, Tristan wasn’t any closer to finding his target. He noticed Nate also looking over the crowd, though with a more pessimistic eye.

“See anything you like?” Tristan asked with a smirk.

“I see a lot of men I like...” his friend answered. “But none worth actually talking to.”

“Oh, Natty.” Tristan chuckled. “There’s plenty of tops looking to get their dicks wet inside a nice plushy bottom like yours.”

“Another nameless fuck.” Nate rolled his eyes. “Just what I need.”

“That’s the spirit.” Tristan slapped his back. It wasn’t that Nate wasn’t hot, he just viewed sex with a more chaste perspective. Nate didn’t like anonymous fucking. Tristan, on the other hand, was looking for just that. A one time fuck that he, hopefully after his large consumption of alcohol and drugs, wouldn’t remember in the morning.

He turned to order another round of drinks before taking two e pills and passing out the rest to his friends. After the guys took their glasses, Tristan raised his for a toast.

"To big dicks, tight asses, and plenty..." Tristan grinned. "Of fucking.” He knocked back the shot, slamming it on the table before he turned back toward the crowd. That’s when his eyes locked on him, standing in the middle of the dance floor with a long sleeve jacket and looking utterly lost. Tristan studied him, noting how young the kid looked. He darted his eyes back and forth, trying to avoid eye contact yet somehow catching Tristan’s intense stare.

“Well boys,” Tristan called to them before he unbuttoned his shirt. “I think I just found my calling.”

"Oh yeah?" Vick called to him laughing. "And what's that?"

"Lifeguarding!" Tristan chortled.

He made his way through the sea of men, swimming over to the drowning pup.

“Buy you a drink?” he whispered in the man's ear. “Or a glass of chocolate milk,” he added with a wicked grin.

**Alex**

“It’s your birthday!” Jason had burst through the doors of Alexander’s cake shop with all the flourish of a supermodel strutting their stuff down the walkway. A group of older straggling female customers cast dirty looks at the redhead as they bit into their pastries and daintily sipped from their paper take-out cups as if they were noblewomen enjoying a cup of tea at noon. Jason, being Jason, was oblivious to the scrutiny as he struts his ass up to the counter and slammed down the box he had been carrying onto the counter Alexander had been busy wiping down.

“Thanks.” An exasperated sigh slipped from his lips even as his curiosity was peaked by the gaudily wrapped package with the obscenely large bow tied messily to the top of it. “What’s this?”

“Your present. Go ahead and open it. I would have got you a cake but…” Jason’s gaze slid to the half-empty display cases lining the counter. A few slices of cake were left here and there but most of them had apparently been sold.

“I own a bakery, Jason. I could make myself 50 cakes if I wanted to.” Tossing the washrag to the side, Alexander tugged on the ribbon until it came undone and tore into the wrapping paper with all of the enthusiasm of a boy on Christmas morning. The box underneath it was plain, in stark contrast to how it had been wrapped. Curiosity growing, he peeled open the flaps and peeked inside.

Nestled amongst sheer packaging paper and decorative lace was the biggest dildo he’d seen outside of a porno.

“Hey, can I get a medium coffee and a bagel?”

Alexander slammed the flaps shut on the box and jerked his head up towards the startled looking customer who had just ordered. Besides them, the biggest shit-eating grin was breaking out across Jason’s face and his cheeks had turned the same shade of red as his hair as he struggled to keep back his laughter.

“Uh, right. Medium coffee and a bagel? Sugar? Cream?” He knocked the box off the counter and onto the floor on his side, kicking it out of sight as apparently Jason lost what little he had of his composure and doubled over laughing - all to the customer’s confusion who repeated his order and darted his eyes between the two of them.

“Seriously?” Alexander whirled on his friend once the last customer was ushered out the door and he could finally flip the OPEN sign over to CLOSED. “A dildo of all things? You couldn’t have gotten me a pair of socks or a tie?”

“Come on. I thought you needed some... Entertainment. When was the last time you had sex? Robert dumped you months ago.” Jason stuffed a leftover muffin into his mouth, pierced eyebrows raising skywards as he chewed. “ ‘Yew can’t go on lik dis.”

“I’ve had sex.” Alexander protested as he shut off the back room lights and switched out of his chef’s shirt. “Once.” A drunken, angry night after him and Robert had had their last fight. He’d let himself be picked up by the first person the tequila in his system had told him was attractive and woken up in a dingy motel room missing the 40 bucks he’d stashed in his wallet for the cab home. The hike back had been a bitter, damp mess. The experience alone had been enough for Alexander to swear off sex with strangers indefinitely. But Jason was right. He couldn’t stay like this forever. His business was doing well and he spent most of his waking hours either baking or sorting out bank statements. While he loved his job, his monotonous life was starting to slowly kill him.

“So? What’s stopping you from having more sex? You don’t even have to get a boyfriend. That’s not even a thing anymore. Have you tried Grindr? You can basically get a guy delivered right to your door. Like a meat-lover's pizza.” The grin on Jason’s face had Alexander rolling his eyes in exasperation.

“Hell no. The last thing I need is some creep showing up at my apartment.”

“Alright, alright. How about we go out. You and me. There’s a club downtown that attracts a huuuuuge crowd. Daddies. Bears. Twinks. You name it. It’s your birthday. We show up, get turnt up, down a few beers and party like we’re 18 again and not almost 30. Eh? Eh? Maybe you’ll find yourself a hunk or two to fuck ya into the mattress like a 5 dollar whore. Then you go home in the morning. No strings. Just an orgasm or two. Probably want to be out of there before breakfast, aye? Then we come back here and have a bagel.”

“.... Alright.”

“Alright? You’re not going to argue? Not tell me about how many bank statements you have to review or lemon meringue you have to whip?”

“Do you want me to change my mind?”

“Nope! Let’s go!”

**Club Lush.**

There were too many bodies and Jason had practically evaporated from his side the second they had crossed the club threshold.

Alex swept a quick glance over the dancefloor, then swept a quick look over at the bar in search of the flaming cheeto. Someone jostled him from behind and he stumbled, caught none-too-gracefully into an embrace of someone that seemed to be attempting to invite him to dance but was doing a better job of making him feel like there weren’t enough layers of clothes to keep them apart.

Detaching himself from the man with some difficulty, he squeezed between a pair of dancers, who mistaking his approach, also tugged him into another dance number that had him the unwilling filling of a sweaty man sandwich. For fucksake. Where had Jason disappeared to? Hands gripped a belt loop and he was yanked back harder against the man pressed against his back. There was a gust of warm breath against his ear but whatever he said was lost under the blaring music and the fact that his hearing aids had been shut off.

Wiggling, he managed to free himself once the dance number seemed to finish. There was just a split second of respite from the bass scrambling up his insides in which he was able to once more slip away. Apparently, the song had changed along with the atmosphere. The next song had a deeper bass line that made his back teeth ache and he found himself standing in a cleared out section of the dancefloor as the other dancers dove into the sea of bodies to find new partners. He let out a deep exhale, stabbing a hand through the damp locks of his hair as he extended another desperate search through the crowd. Dammit. He should have expected this much. He suspected Jason seen a good ass or two he was interested in and gone off in search of gold. Completely forgetting that Alexander didn’t know how to navigate this cesspool of hormones. Tch. Nearly making up his mind to go home, something brushed against his ear and Alexander turned towards the sensation.

‘.... of milk?’ The last of whatever question the man behind him had been asking curled his lips but provided no actual insight into what he had asked. Milk?

The man before him was one hell of a specimen. He looked like he had stepped off of the set of an old mobster movie. Even that little devilish smirk that curled his lips seemed to beckon Alexander to jump in and sin with him. His hair was rebelliously curled, probably damp from the rain that had started up outside and Alexander’s eyes traced where the tendrils of it met the collar of his unbuttoned shirt, granting him a peek of firm muscle beneath. Flawless. The living embodiment of perfection.  
But those lips hadn’t moved again, signaling that he was waiting for some sort of answer. Scrambling to piece up something coherent and coming up blank, he cautiously nodded once. Unsure of what he had just agreed to but surprisingly willing to follow this man into hell if he decided to drag him along.

Jason’s disappearance was momentarily forgotten.

**Tristan**

Tristan had never seen this man at Lush before, and that thrilled him more than anything. The fact that he was hot came second. That dark hair was styled, but the tips fell over the man's chiseled face and finely lined shadow. Tristan was clean shaven, but he loved the feeling of a man's stubble as it slid down his chest when they went down on him. The olive skin was beautiful against the lasers and strobe lights, and those eyes, they glowed, even in the darkness and the black lights. A fine specimen. Tristan would have no problem fucking every one of his holes.

Instead of answering Tristan's question with a verbal reply, the man nodded and Tristan gave him a half smile before he led the kid to the bar.

Okay, so he was shy. No problem. Some of his best sex was with men who didn't talk too much. Out in public, they were introverts, but in bed they were animals. This guy didn't need to talk as long as he was willing and able to fuck.  
"Lemme get a jack and coke," Tristan yelled to the barkeep. He turned toward the man who was staring at his mouth as though he was trying to decide what his lips would taste like. Used to the attention, Tristan didn't even blink twice. Instead, he gave the man a wink before he asked what he was drinking.

He ordered the mans drink and handed it to him before he took a sip from his tumbler glass.

"What's your name?" he asked, not fully pulling the glass away from his lips. The man leaned in slightly as he said it, holding the edge of his ear. Yeah...so the music /was/ kind of loud. Usually, it didn't seem to matter, but this guy obviously wasn't used to screaming at the top of his lungs.

"I said what your name?!" Tristan shouted over the bass and thump of the club music.

**Alex**

Alexander watched in bemusement as the dancing crowd seemed to instinctively part as the stranger passed. If he lagged behind too long, the bodies began to press in again, threatening to trap him within the mass of writhing, gyrating sweaty crowd.  
But the other man repelled them like oil to water. While his looks seemed to draw people in like moths, they also repelled them. Forcing many to dance on the sidelines like puppets, waiting for the man to flash a smile or cock a finger in invitation before stepping forward.

Alexander had never seen anything quite like it.

Being drawn along by his own invisible strings. He followed the man closely until they reached the bar area. He was able to squeeze in between a few patrons, settling himself so that he could keep the man in his sight at all times. Turning on his hearing aid now would be a stupid idea. The noise alone would have him writhing in agony on the ground. When Jason had suggested they go out to get laid, the idea had been tantalizing, but he'd forgotten about the loud music places like this played. It was like they were actively discouraging conversation. Just pick up your lay for the night and get out.

His much-needed tequila shot was slid across the bar and he caught it before it could tumble to the floor. What the hell? Did the barkeep think this was some sort of fantasy movie or something? You didn’t slide drinks across the bar unless you wanted a lot of smashed glasses and slip hazards.

The guy’s glass blocked his lips for a moment as he took a sip, though Alex could just make out that they moved. Cocking his head to the side he touched his ear in question, prompting the guy to repeat his words. Ah. His name. A tricky thing to get across when he couldn’t hear himself speak but, he knew enough about volume control to not yell into the stranger’s ear as he leaned in, cupping one hand behind the guy’s ear as replied.

“Alexander. Alex.”

When he pulled back, he was startled when he realized that Jason had materialized just as suddenly as he disappeared, latching onto Alexander's shoulders from behind and nearly sending him into cardiac arrest. Holy fucking fuck.

He glared at the flaming gay cheeto as the man went off. Whatever he was going off about was lost on Alex, who couldn't read the guy's lips due to how fast he was talking. He must have noticed Alexander's lack of comprehension because he pulled back, eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"Dude, did you turn off your hearing aid?" His eyes slid towards the stranger who he'd interrupted before a cheeky grin appeared on his face. "How the hell are you holding a conversation if you can't hear the guy? Wait. Why are you having a conversation with the guy? You're here to get laid not share your eHarmony profiles, remember? Skip the chitchat and get to the sideways Macarena."

Alexander's fingers twitched with the urge to choke out the redhead and get him to shut up. Sideways Macarena? Was Jason drunk already? They hadn't even been here for half an hour! And Alexander didn't need his advice on how to pick up guys, he'd done just fine by standing in the middle of the dance floor and looking like a toddler that had lost his mom in the supermarket.

"Go.." Alexander grumbled, shoving the other away. Jason went surprisingly easily, reaching out to drag a lingering blonde twink into his side. "I was actually just letting you know I found my ass."  
Alexander doubted he kept a straight face as he caught sight of the twink. Bearing an eerie resemblance to a Kardashian wannabe. With thick lips that looked like they belonged on a horse and eyebrows painted on so high the poor thing looked like his face was frozen in a perpetual state of shock, Alexander glanced at Jason to see how serious he was about this. But the redhead seemed unperturbed by the uncanny appearance of his companion. He watched them disappear into the dancing crowd silently before finally turning his gaze back to his own partner. He was unsure of how much the man had caught of that conversation but he motioned to his ear again before pointing towards the exit. Hopefully, the guy would get the message and follow him outside where he would be able to turn his aids on safety.

**Tristan**

“Alexander. Alex,” the man called back. Tristan smiled and extended his hand. He pulled the man closer to him before he reached up and touched his shoulder.

“I’m Tristan,” he told him. “Nice to meet you.”

When he pulled back a man with flaming red hair came up beside Alex wrapping his hands around his neck.

“There are some hotties in here tonight!” Jason said. “Found a little treat for the night so I’m checking out. Are you good getting home?” he asked. When Alex frowned, Jason leaned in and narrowed his gaze.

"Dude, did you turn off your hearing aid?"

‘Hearing aid?’ Had he heard that right? Tristan blinked at Alex and the stranger before he frowned.

"How the hell are you holding a conversation if you can't hear the guy? Wait. Why are you having a conversation with the guy? You're here to get laid not share your eHarmony profiles, remember? Skip the chitchat and get to the sideways Macarena."   
The redhead turned to him laughing and Tristan laughed awkwardly.

‘Holy fuck what have I gotten myself into.’

"Go..." Alexander grumbled, shoving the other away. Tristan watched as the redhead pulled a blondie to his side. He was pretty sure Vick had fucked that guy last week, and judging by the fact that blondie was now avoiding his stare, he was probably right.   
“I was actually just letting you know I found my ass." Alex peered over to the blond man and a smile crept over his lips. If he was thinking the same thing as Tristan it was that he was wearing too much makeup.

“I’m sure handsome wouldn’t mind taking you home.” The man smirked. Tristan smiled uncomfortably thinking how hard he’d fucked himself with this one.

The redhead left, and Tristan was left alone with Alex. A deaf guy. A fucking deaf guy. Didn’t they come with some kind of labels or warnings or something? Shit!

Alex motioned to his ear and then to the exit.

Tristan ordered a drink for the road and made his way toward the exit gritting his teeth through his smile. They made it toward the atrium where the music wasn’t blaring.

“I’m sorry,” Tristan said touching his ear subconsciously. “I umm...I didn’t know...” he twisted his lips. “I mean, I didn’t realize...” What he did realize is that he sounded like an idiot. Thankfully at that moment, Nate was coming out of the club at the same time.   
“Naaaattteee!” Tristan exclaimed, immediately grabbing his friend and pulling him away from the coat check, ticket in hand. “My favorite person. My best friend. My comrade.”

“What the fuck do you want?” Nate asked, suspicion pinching his forehead. He told Alex to hold on for one second before he dragged Nate into the corner.

“Need you to do me a solid buddy,” Tristan mumbled.

“Oh yeah?” Nate crossed his arms. “What is it this time?”

“Just be cool…” Tristan whispered. “And come, meet, Alex.” He pulled the man toward Alex. “Alex, this is my friend, Nate. Nate, this is Alex.”

“Nice to meet you,” Nate said extending his hand. He shook Alex’s hand firmly before he turned back to Tristan. “You guys taking off?” he asked Tristan.

“No, we just came out here where the music isn’t so deafening- no pun intended.” He looked at Alex briefly before he turned back to Nate. “You see, Alex here, is looking for a ride home. He’s not exactly cut out for the loud music. And since you drove with me, I figured, /you two/,” he motioned between the two of them, “could take my car, make your great escape, and /I’ll/ stay here.”

Nate’s frowned deepened before he glanced at Alex. “Take your car?”

“Yup.’ Tristan grinned holding out his keys. “I’ll walk home.”

“It’s pouring raining.”

“Then I’ll take a cab.” He gave Nate the eye, trying to silently explain to the situation. A deaf guy, despite how hot he was, wasn’t Tristan’s cup of tea. He couldn’t just ditch the kid though...  
“So what do you say?” Tristan waited for Nate’s reply.

“I say...” Nate tapped his chin. “No way.” Tristan’s smile faltered as his friend smirked. Just then, a taller built man came out of the club and waved toward Nate. Nate grinned before he waved him over toward Tristan and Alex.   
“Tristan, this is Harrison. Harrison, Tristan.” The man’s face went pink before he rubbed the back of his neck.

“We’ve ughh...”

“Met before,” Tristan finished his sentence with a smirk. “Wesley’s place right? That sex party two years ago. Mr. Dick piercing.” Harrison cleared his throat before he turned to Nate who was now glaring at Tristan.

“Well...we should get going...” Harrison said before he motioned Nate toward the door. Tristan watched them disappear through the door before he turned back to Alex. He sighed before he squeezed his keys in his hand.   
“Well...guess I’m your chauffeur for the night,” he said to Alex. “Where are we headed kid.”


	2. Chapter 2

Alexander knew that tone.

He’d heard it often enough whenever he’d shown up for a job interview.

‘Oh.. You... ‘ They’d motion towards their ears as if they thought Alexander didn’t know where they were. ‘YOU CaN’t HEaR RigHt? Then they’d half raise their voices, as if they were unsure if they should scream or continue talking as they would normally, so every other syllable was needlessly stressed as they tried to gauge his reaction.

He’d heard it with the last few guys he’d tried to date. Alexander hadn’t been 100% honest with Jason that afternoon. Just because he hadn’t been having sex, didn’t mean he hadn’t been trying. Finding a guy was usually easy. Alexander knew he was an attractive guy and he wasn’t lacking attention from both sexes. But the second they figured out he was deaf, their expressions shuttered and their mannerisms turned awkward, as if they were deathly afraid of upsetting him or referring to his deafness accidentally. The last guy to hit on Alex had been brought to the bakery by another regular customer. The guy had been two seconds away from successfully weaseling out Alexander’s cellphone number when he said the dreaded four words; “What’s wrong with you?”

Nothing else stung more than that. What was wrong with him? Practically nothing. He had a pair of hearing aids to help him hear, that’s it. But to others, just that much was enough to label Alexander as flawed.

“Of course you didn’t realize, it’s not--,” The relief on Tristan’s face was palpable as he apparently noticed someone he knew exiting the club.

Ugh. He knew that tone too.

It was the ‘make up an excuse and save me from this awkward situation’ tone. Alexander was guilty of using it himself whenever his nosey neighbor kept trying to set him up on a date with her stepson. She meant well but her help wasn’t needed.  
Tristan was unaware that Alexander could hear every single word he whispered to his friend. There was an upside to how sensitive his aids were - he could hear a hell of a lot more than people thought he could when he had them turned on - even if that also meant clubs were a literal, auditory nightmare.

“Likewise.” Alexander murmured softly as he took Nate’s hand and was greeted to a surprisingly firm handshake for someone so slight. When their hands parted, he followed Nate’s gaze towards Tristan, wondering what excuse was going to leave those perfectly pert lips. Even though he half expected some sort of dismissal, it still caught him by surprise - along with the sharp pang of pain in his chest. He was supposed to be used to this. But for fuck's sake, he hadn’t left a stack of bank statements waiting at home to come to a club and be pawned off onto some other guy just because the first guy’s dick had wilted the second he’d figured out Alexander was deaf.

And boy was Tristan desperate.

He could see the man’s eyes darting, silently pleading for his friend to take the cue and rescue him from the poor deaf kid. For a moment it appeared Nate considered it but the smirk as he refused gave Alexander a soft surge of smug triumph. Take that asshole. Tristan’s painted on smile faltered for a moment but never truly left his face. For all intents and purposes, the guy was a trooper and apparently, he took disappointment surprisingly well. As if summoned by Tristan’s disappointment, another man appeared from the club exit and was waved over by Nate. With another round of introductions, Alexander watched in bemusement as the large man’s cheeks - Harrison was it? - turned a deep crimson as he acknowledged that he and Tristan had indeed met before.

Sex parties? Dick piercing? Unbidden, his eyes dropped to Harrison’s crotch as if he were expecting to see the guy’s dick sticking out like a flagpole gracefully adorned by the piercing. Of course, all he got was an eye full of denim before Harrison nudged Nate out the door. There was a moment of silence as both Tristan and Alexander watched the pair leave, once they were out of sight, Tristan opened his mouth.

“We, as in me and you, aren’t going anywhere.” Alexander finally bit out. He was tired. Pissed. His birthday officially sucked. Hell, he should’ve stayed home and tested out Jason’s dildo. “I’m deaf, not invalid. I don’t need someone to drive me around like I’m an idiot. I know how to catch a cab on my own.” He felt his eyes rolling, “I’m, going home. You can stay here and find someone else who needs to have perfect use of their ears to suck your dick. I didn’t know you needed to stick your dick in my ear in order to have sex with me.” Whoa. Now he sounded like he was whining. Alexander didn’t whine.

The guy had been perfect. Good looking. Interested but not too interested. Alexander wasn’t going to have to worry about waking up tomorrow and having to make awkward small talk as the guy dressed. Tristan would’ve been gone. Hell, the guy would probably get up and leave right after his orgasms. That would’ve been fine with him. If Jason hadn’t shown up and outed his hearing aids, he doubted the guy would’ve even noticed.

Stupid. Stupid. “Look, sorry for snapping at you. Let’s just forget this happened. I’m going home. Goodnight.” Fishing out his phone from his pocket, he pulled the coat check ticket out from behind the case and got his coat from the bored looking clerk there. Shrugging into the denim, he pulled up his Uber app as he stepped out of the club. There was a small awning right above the exit that kept him dry but he watched with dismay as buckets of water drizzled from the sky. What had earlier been a soft drizzle was now a downpour. As he punched his address into the app, he released a quiet groan as he realized what should have been a 10 dollar fare had skyrocketed to 50. He understood the rain was dangerous and all but 50 dollars for a few blocks? “Fucking Hell. This was exactly what I needed.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, where a headache was starting to build. “Happy fucking birthday Alexander.”

 

**Tristan**

“We, as in me and you, aren’t going anywhere.”  
“Don’t be dramatic, please?” Tristan rolled his eyes at Alex's tone before he sighed. "It's raining outside and I promised your .friend that I'd make sure you got home. Don’t make me a liar. I /hate/ liars."

“I’m deaf, not invalid. I don’t need someone to drive me around like I’m an idiot. I know how to catch a cab on my own. You can stay here and find someone else who needs to have perfect use of their ears to suck your dick."

"They don't need to have perfect use of their ears, just perfect use of their mouths." Tristan shook his head laughing. "I'm sorry, but having sex with a deaf guy is just..." he paused trying to cushion his words. "It's just fucking weird, okay?" Pausing clearly didn't help.

"I didn’t know you needed to stick your dick in my ear in order to have sex with me!” At that Tristan’s smile faltered. He wasn’t going to stick his dick in the guy's ear, but seriously...a deaf guy? He would feel bad fucking and ducking out the same night. I mean, for fuck’s sake, the guy wouldn’t even be able to hear him leave.

“Look, sorry for snapping at you,” the man said, obviously embarrassed and frustrated. “Let’s just forget this happened. I’m going home. Goodnight.” Tristan watched Alex as he walked away. He was struck all over again at how nice of a body he had. Built slim, but not scrawny, and he had the tightest little ass tucked away in those jeans. Tristan turned to walk back inside of the club when something like a conscious actually struck him.

‘You cannot /ditch/ a deaf guy!’

For some reason, his conscious sounded a lot like Nate. Tristan made his way outside under the awning before he lit a cigarette. Alex was so into his phone he didn’t even notice him standing next to him.  
“Fucking Hell. This was exactly what I needed.” Alex pinched the bridge of his nose, where a headache was starting to build. “Happy fucking birthday Alexander.”

“I didn’t know today was today was your birthday,” Tristan exhaled the smoke from his cigarette. “You should have told me, I would buy you one of the sparkling champagne bottles.” He snorted noticing the vexation on Alex’s face. He was not amused by his antics.

“Look,” Tristan started. “It’s raining outside, and it’s getting late. I’m not expecting anything for taking you home. I have a car and you /obviously/ need a ride. And to top it all off. It’s your birthday.” He exhaled the smoke before he flicked the cigarette. “So stop being pissy, and let’s make both of our lives a little easier.” He tugged at Alex’s jacket with that half smile, standing in the rain. “Come on Alex…” he reached out his hand to urge him out from under the awning. “Save what’s left of this wretched soul,” he said caustically.

**Alex**

Tristan could have told him that he ate babies and Alexander still would have followed him like an idiot.

It was that little half-smile.

It should be illegal. Tristan should be illegal.

Alexander stepped out from beneath the awning, unconsciously drawn in by that smile and that outstretched hand. It was almost like one of those Rom-Coms his mother had watched when he was a kid. The rain was falling mercilessly, slicking down Tristan's hair, soaking through his coat but somehow he still looked as flawless as he had under the club's strobe lights. In contrast - Alexander was just getting soaked at this point and was probably closer to looking like a drowned rat than the romantic lead in a movie.   
"Alright, Romeo. Let's get out of the rain before we're admitted into the hospital for pneumonia."

He climbed into the passenger seat, wiping at his face with the edge of his sleeve - and realizing that wasn't helping much, he smoothed back his hair with both hands to keep it from dripping into his eyes.  
"It wasn't supposed to rain this hard." He murmured softly as Tristan started the car engine and the headlights went on, illuminating the thick curtain of rain that was obscuring the road ahead. The windshield wipers swished futilely against the torrent, slicking the water against the glass in foggy streaks.

The sound of the tires sloshing through the puddles filled the interior of the car - almost discouraging conversation as Tristan guided the vehicle through the streets. In almost no time at all the car's headlight illuminated the bakery's sign. At night the place looked almost forlorn, the shiny, bright colors he used to make the place more inviting were obscured by shadow and only a glimpse of it flashed as he instructed Tristan to turn into the slightly covered garage he'd had constructed especially for deliveries and accessibility for the large school-bus-like vans that came by every two weeks to drop off a couple of Adult Day Care facilities he rented the space to for a few hours. It also meant he could get into his apartment during rainy or snowy seasons without killing himself. Alexander's apartment was right above the bakery, smaller than the establishment itself as if it had been tacked on as an afterthought.

"You know, I feel bad about making you drive me all the way home." He glanced out of the passenger side window, noting how difficult it was to discern the night scenery beneath the heavy rainfall that showed no sign of letting up. "I'm not a fan of rain and the thought of you driving around in a potential flood makes me uneasy. I have a dryer and a change of clothes. You've done something for me, now let me do something for you. At least until the rain lets up a bit."

**Tristan**

Alex finally agreed to let Tristan give him a ride, which was good because Tristan was now drenched. By the time they made it to the car, his hair was completely soaked and his jeans were sticking to his thighs and groin. It was April, but Philly had that kind of weather in the spring. Warm during the day and then rainy and chilly at night.

"It wasn't supposed to rain this hard," Alex said as Tristan started the engine and turned on the heat.

"Good old Philly weather," Tristan replied. He dug in the side of his pocket searching for a cigarette. Then he grabbed his lighter from the armrest. The lighter flicked open loudly as he twisted his head toward the flame and lit the tip. His hand twisted around the slick engraved metal before he closed the lighter once more. Then he cracked the window slightly to let the smoke out of the car.

They drove steadily, but the rain begins to come down in buckets, beating down on the hood and the windshield. Tristan had to sit up straight and focus through his drug-induced haze in order to get through the roads. Thankfully he drove a jeep and said jeep had four-wheel drive.

Alex guided him well enough, and soon they were pulling up to a bakery on the corner of Calvert and Howard Street. He'd sent his assistant there several times to get doughnuts for staff meetings from time to time. When they pulled up in the driveway he turned toward Alex sighing out as the rain continued to pummel his car.

"You know, I feel bad about making you drive me all the way home," Alex said before he glanced out of the passenger side window.

"Consider it a birthday ride," Tristan winked before he gave Alex another one of his smiles. He unlocked the doors.

"Be careful walking back, it's late," Tristan warned him. Alex nodded before several seconds of silence. When Alex didn't move from the car Tristan tilted his head and frowned.

"Everything okay?" Tristan asked.

"I'm not a fan of rain and the thought of you driving around in a potential flood makes me uneasy."

"Yeah, the weather's shitty." Tristan shrugged. "But I'm not going to sit in the car all night waiting for it to let up."

"I have a dryer and a change of clothes. You've done something for me, now let me do something for you. At least until the rain lets up a bit," Alex offered.

"Hmm...." Tristan inhaled the cigarette before he blew out the smoke and turned toward Alex slowly. The kid had an expression he couldn't read.

"Is this your way of seducing me, Alex?" he teased with a wicked grin. After he waited for Alex's reply he decided he might as well take him up on his offer. It was raining way too hard, and he'd had two pills and three drinks already. A slow night by Tristan's standards, but he didn't want to push it.

He rolled up the window and hopped out the jeep, flicking the cigarette as he did so. Thankfully they were parked under a covered driveway to protect them from the worst of the rain.

"Ever been to that bakery before," Tristan asked. He pointed to the store as they passed it. "They have the best cannolis in there." He was shocked when Alex told him that he both owned the shop and lived above it. "No shit..." Tristan said genuinely surprised. Then he paused in his step staring at Alex.

"Wait...you're not a student?" Tristan asked somewhat dumbstruck. He laughed out shaking his head. "I fucking thought you were a baby."

Alex led him to the entrance above the bakery. They had to climb up the stairs on the side of the two-story building. There was a small cover awning right in the front of Alex's door. Tristan squeezed up against Alex in order to protect himself from the rain as Alex opened the door. Tristan placed his arm on the side panel of the door, locking Alex in with his arms, and peering down as the man fumbled with the keys.

"Need help?" he teased him in a low voice. Alex bit back a snarky reply before the door finally opened.

"Shit..." Tristan shivered as they entered the house just as it began to pour again. He stared at his watch checking the time as Alex turned on the lights. His blond hair was dripping and Alex offered to fetch him a towel. Tristan removed his jacket and then noticed that his shirt and jeans were dripping as well. He kicked off his shoes at the door before he removed his shirt. "Gotta extra shirt back there." He called to Alex as he unbuttoned his pants. "And a pair of sweats!" he added.


	3. Chapter 3

"That explains the 'kid' comments from earlier," Alex mumbled as he led the way up the side stairway towards his apartment. His shoulders tensed and his fingers became clumsy on his keys as Tristan crowded into the tiny space beneath the awning that was granting them some cover from the rain. It seemed the devil in human skin noticed Alexander's discomposure for he leaned in even closer, locking him in - trapped between the locked door and Tristan's body heat that was beginning to seep through his rain-  
soaked clothes - and teased him in a low voice that would have impregnated him instantly if he had been a woman.

Alexander bit back a reply and reminded himself that pushing someone down a flight of stairs was illegal and that using 'he was being too sexy' as an excuse wouldn't get him out of prison but probably thrown into a mental institution. Tristan had a way of making you want to help him and then make you want to forget that a decent human being does not commit murder whenever he opened his mouth. Finally, the key turned in the lock and he pushed the door open. They both sort of tumbled in just as the rain began to pick up strength again and Alexander shut the door on the horrendous weather outside.  
"Wait here, I'll get you a towel." He kicked off his sneakers and peeled off his soaked socks, leaving them on the floor as he padded barefoot through the apartment, switching on the lights as he went through the rooms. His apartment was decently sized for someone who lived alone. The living room and kitchen were all one unit, with only a small half-wall that had been converted into a bar separating the two. Opening up a hallway closet, he pulled out two towels, draping it over his arm as he slipped into his bedroom in search of the shouted clothes request. While he and Tristan had to be around the same age, they were arguably not the same size. Tristan would have to make do with whatever the dryer had stretched out to unwearable proportions. Swapping out of his wet clothes, he made his way back to his errant house guest. Only to find Tristan turning over the plastic box that housed Jason's gag gift. It seemed the other hadn't stayed in the hallway as Alex had told him and instead wandered into the living room. It wasn't exactly messy, it was just obvious that he did most of his work here. The coffee table had his unfinished bank statements strewn upon it, and there were boxes of supplies lined against one wall - he loved his staff, really, he did but his pocket couldn't exactly afford having his supplies and ingredients going missing whenever he had a surplus.

"No," He snatched away the box, causing the contents to spill out along the floor. And lo-and-behold, the dildo still in its protective casing clattered to the floor between them. "Nope. You didn't see anything." Tossing the empty box back into the couch where he'd thrown it that afternoon, he kicked the dildo away, where it rolled out of sight beneath the couch.

"Ignore that. Here are your towel and clothes." In his heroic attempts at hiding the embarrassing gift, he hadn't even noticed that Tristan wasn't wearing the clothes they had come in with. Instead, he stripped down to his underwear, which Alexander suspected were the only dry article of clothing the man still had. His eyes slipped below his shoulders, sweeping over the man's toned chest, those rippling abdominal muscles and the deep V indentation of his pelvis and lower... -"Put them on. /Please/." He shoved the articles of clothing into the man's arms and whirled around to pick up their wet clothes and shove them into the dryer, setting the timer to half an hour. To keep his hands and idle mind busy and strictly above the waist, he moved fully into the kitchen area, rummaging in the cupboards.

"Do you want something anything? Coffee? Hot chocolate?" Me? His mind tacked on against his better wishes. Was it getting hot in here? Alex brushed away the sudden moisture against his forehead with the back of his hand.

**Tristan**

Tristan stripped down to his briefs and stood feeling rather out of place in the man's apartment. It wasn't that he wasn't used to coming back to houses with strange men, (actually that was part of his mantra) but finding himself stuck inside on a rainy day, stripped down his undies had him feeling a tad out of place. The best way he could think to remedy his awkwardness was to get a feel for his environment. As far as Tristan could tell, Alex did pretty well for himself. It was nowhere near as luxurious as Tristan's high rise studio apartment, but then again, things rarely measured up when comparing them to Tristan Kemp. He stopped in the living room, stretching out on the leather couch. This room was obviously where Alex did most of his living. There were scattered letters and unopened mail along with billing receipts and a three-ring recipe binder with folded tabs. Tristan looked through some of the magazines before he saw a gift box on the coffee table.

'Oh right...his birthday...' Tristan said before reading the note on the box.

With great cock comes great responsibility.  
-Love Jason

Initially, Tristan snorted at the note, silently agreeing with Jason’s sentiment, but then he realized the note was signed love. 'A boyfriend?' he wondered, before leaning in to inspect what the present was. Just as he'd almost pulled the paper away, Alex came over and snatched the box away. The dildo flew up and then fell to the floor with a loud thump. Tristan chuckled before the situation got the better of him and he let out a full cackle, not even bothering to cover his mouth.

“I need to get a closer look at that.”

"Nope.” Tristan reached for the dildo but Alex quickly kicked it under the couch. “You didn't see anything,”

“Come on," Tristan teased him. “I wanna see your birthday present.”

"Ignore that. Here are your towel and clothes." Alex’s eyes lingered over him, trailing down until they fell into his lap.

“So I guess you like em’ thick huh?” he asked Alex before the man’s eyes jolted back up toward his face.

"Put them on. /Please/." Alex shoved the clothes at him before he gathered Tristan’s wet clothes off the floor. Tristan tilted his head, enjoying the view of the man’s ass in his fitted grey sweat pants and white v-neck tee shirt. For the second time that night Tristan found himself thinking that he wouldn’t mind grabbing a fistful of Alex’s ass. Tristan stood up to put on the clothes Alex gave him. It was an oversized shirt and some basketball shorts that fit length wise but stretched in the waist. He again wondered if these clothes belonged to a boyfriend. Alex didn’t look like the type to play basketball, then again, Alex didn’t look like the type to wear a hearing aid either. Tristan made his way over to Alex in the kitchen, leaning his elbows on the counter that separated the kitchen and living area. Even through his shirt his tight body was visible. His shoulders jutted out and the sleeves clutched at his thick biceps.

"Do you want anything? Coffee? Hot chocolate?" The man’s light colored eyes were still locked on him, and Tristan realized that Alex was one of the few men that looked at him when they talked to him. Perhaps that was due to the fact that he needed to read lips in order to hear when his aid was turned off, but Tristan enjoyed the idea of having Alex’s undivided attention. Even if it was just a casual conversation.

Tristan smiled at how flushed the man had become. It was obvious that Alex was still flustered about the dildo. “Do you have alcohol?” Tristan asked, attempting to take the edge of the embarrassing situation.

“Seeing as how we left the club early and it’s your birthday. We might as well make a night of it. Right?”

**Alex**

Tristan was going to give him psychological whiplash.

How could someone who whenever he opened his mouth, said something either stupid or insulting, also be able to open his mouth to be oddly kind as well?

It was like there was a little demon in the man's head that was constantly pressing the 'be an asshole' button in his brain whenever Tristan spoke but rarely, very rarely, the angel on his shoulder could get in a few presses of the 'be a good person' button that was significantly smaller but still there. Of course, all of this was just wishful thinking because the next time Tristan opened his mouth, Alex would bet his next paycheck he was going to say something either stupid, insulting or both. Not to mention the guy was going to have him in a perpetual state of arousal the entire night. The articles of clothing Alex had brought were the biggest things he owned. When Robert had kicked him out, Alex hadn't had a lot to exactly call his own and his pride had been one of the only things that had kept him from calling his mother and begging her to let him move back in with her, so he'd collected whatever he could from the few friends he'd had at the time willing to give him a place to crash for the night while he spent his days job hunting and his nights agonizing in the pit of depression that was threatening to drown him.

But the clothes didn’t make things better. They made them worse. The shirt was too tight, strained over his chest almost comically. The hem didn’t even reach all the way down to his waist, so a portion of his stomach was exposed whenever he moved. Not to mention the sleeves looked like they were on the verge bursting if he so much as flexed. Not to mention the shorts. Those, he’d borrowed from a friend and never actually returned. On him, they slipped low even when he tied the drawstring as tight as he could manage but on Tristan? They hugged every single curve like a second skin. They were basketball shorts for godsakes, they weren’t supposed to look sexy! The clothing Tristan had been wearing before had done his bare body any justice either. While Tristan had been attractive before, he was darn near irresistible now. The only thing keeping Alex from throwing himself at the man was the fact that he’d expressly stated that fucking a deaf guy would be weird. Not that Alex understood what the big deal was - he could hear Tristan as long as he kept his hearing aids turned on - he and Robert had managed just fine in college and as he’d mentioned earlier, as long as his dick still worked it didn’t matter that his ears didn’t. Mentally shrugging and discreetly reaching down to adjust himself in his too-tight-and-getting-tighter briefs, he swept his gaze over the length of his kitchen. Alcohol, huh. Alexander wasn’t much of a drinker - he was a baker, he enjoyed sweet things and unless he totally desecrated a bottle of vodka with sugar, most alcohol tasted like ass. But he was an adult and adult drank alcohol because they had no other way of dealing with how much being an adult sucked.

"There might be something left." Vodka most likely, since it was what he used in most of his smaller pastries. He switched objectives, leaving the coffee for the morning and rummaging in his cabinets for any bottles of alcohol he could find. Finally, he produced a half-empty bottle of vodka and a vintage scotch he had gotten as a Grand Opening present but never touched. “Viola, the best I have to offer because I’m a pastry chef, not an alcoholic. Yet.” Tonight would prove just how much restraint he had in that department. Finding two glasses, he carried the items back to the living room area. Clearing off the coffee table, he set all of his unfinished work to the side and collapsed back onto his couch with a soft grunt. “Come sit your ass down,” He pats the seat beside him as he opened up the bottle of scotch. “We can watch a movie if you want. I have Netflix. We can Netflix and chill... Literally.” He snorted at his lame joke as he poured their poison.

**Tristan**

"There might be something left." Tristan watched Alex rummaging in the cabinets. He had to hold back a laugh at the realization that this guy obviously didn't drink very much, or at all. Tristan wasn't a psychic, he just observed people. A lot. And anyone who had to "look" for the alcohol didn't indulge in it very often. Eventually, Alex found the booze though. A half drunk bottle of Grey Goose (which likely didn't belong to him) and a sealed bottle of scotch.

“Viola, the best I have to offer because I’m a pastry chef, not an alcoholic."

"Yet," Tristan smirked.

"Yet," Alex repeated, matching his expression.

"Although." Tristan picked up the bottle of scotch. "This is a pretty good year of scotch you've got here. Another birthday gift?" he surmised. He whistled as Alex produced two coffee mugs for them to drink out of.

"I'm guessing you don't have shot glasses," he teased the man before he broke the seal on the scotch. His eyes followed Alex's ass as he made his way toward the couch. Alex was shorter than him and leaner, but he wasn't skinny like most guys Tristan encountered these days. Most of the men he saw were so thin he could see their fucking rib cages. Not the case with Alex. He had a nice build through his shoulders, and though he wasn't cut, he had some muscle tone. That ass though, Tristan couldn't keep his eyes off it. For sure Alex would give Tristan something to hold onto.

“Come sit your ass down,” Alex said with a playful tone, patting the seat beside him. Alex uncapped the scotch and Tristan happily complied, flopping down right next to him. Of course, he sat as close as he could to Alex, using the coffee tables proximity as an excuse. Alex cleared off the table, and poured them both a generous amount of the scotch.

"We can watch a movie if you want. I have Netflix. We can Netflix and chill. Literally.” Tristan let out a laugh at the corny joke before he shook his head.

"Netflix and chilling in the rain..." Tristan grabbed the scotch and added more into his cup. "That sounds suspiciously like something a hetero married couple would do." He snorted before he took a large gulp of the liquor, swiping the remote from Alex's hand. He then flipped through the movie options, searching for the most action-packed flick he could find.

"You give me that vibe, by the way," Tristan said, finally deciding on the movie John Wick. "The relationship vibe," he explained. "Either you're in one, or you're just getting out of one."

Tristan sniggered at the face Alex was making. "Sorry, it's just dripping all over you. Your lack of alcohol, Netflix and chill, these clothes that clearly don't fit you..." Tristan smiled over the cup of scotch at his lips. "Even at the club, I could tell." He took another swig before he exhaled deep. "You're not used to one night stands. This is probably the first time you've ever done this, huh?"

Tristan tilted his head, his white teeth gleaming as he smiled. "Don't worry, I'm not going to take advantage of you..." He couldn't help but smirk as Alex's face gave away his thoughts. As stated, he wasn't a psychic, but he /could/ read people, and Alex's body language, tone, and face were all saying "I want you to fuck me."

**Alex**

Alexander moved over and Tristan followed. He found his hip pressing against the arm of the couch and Tristan planted firmly at his side even with the absurd amount of space on the other side.   
Ass. Bringing the coffee mug to his lips, he chugged down the scotch until the burn at the back of his throat became painful and he forced himself to stop with a cough.

"A relationship?" He swallowed, feeling the sting ease to a pleasant numbness. "I..." He started, then paused. He was hardly drunk but he had felt the words bubble at his lips like a fountain before he'd stopped himself. Sure, the last person he'd complained to about Robert was Jason, and he hadn't exactly been sympathetic - "Get a new boyfriend" he'd said as if Alexander hadn't already thought of that. "I was, a while ago." Years, in fact. "It didn't work out."

He couldn't keep the scowl off his face.

The fact that Tristan had been able to read him so easily irritated him beyond belief. He threw back the rest of the scotch in his mug and reached for the bottle to refill. It was like Tristan had picked at a scab and now Alexander couldn't stop the bleeding. He wanted... Something. It was why he'd agreed to go to the damn club in the first place even though he'd known subconsciously that it was a bad idea. Tristan was a bad idea. It seemed that tonight he was making all of the bad decisions. Like the decision to continue this thread of conversation.

"I don't do..." He waved his free hand around in a loose circle as he fished for the correct word to stuff into the sentence and seeming to come up empty, he gestured at the two of them with a shrug, "Whatever this is."

What exactly were they doing? Alexander had invited him inside out of politeness but that had quickly proven to be an exercise in mental and physical restraint. Absently, he reached up to adjust the volume of his aids as the movie started, lifting the coffee mug full of scotch to his lips. "I let Jason talk me into this. Going out tonight. Picking up someone for my birthday." He laughed softly, "Of course, I knew it was a terrible idea. But... it's my birthday and the last thing I wanted to do was spend it reading bank statements."

The scotch was bitter on his tongue and he rubbed it against the roof of his mouth as he pondered his next words. "You... Why did you hit on me if you could tell that this wasn't my thing?"

His dick seemed intent on pressing against the constraint of his briefs, completely oblivious to the conflicting emotions roiling around inside of him. He wanted to be fucked. Hard. Hell, if Tristan so much as flicked an eyelash of invitation in Alex's direction, he wouldn't doubt he'd be all over him in a second. But Alex didn't do this. He didn't drag strangers into his house to fuck. He didn't know Tristan, hell, he wasn't even sure he liked the guy. Every other sentence out of his mouth was some sort of insult, Alex had spent most of his time with him teetering between wanting the guy to fuck his brains out and wanting to push him into oncoming traffic. In all respects, this was a bad idea.

"Would you?" Then realizing the other probably didn't have a clue what he was asking, Alex cleared his throat and repeated. "Would you take advantage, if I asked you to?"


End file.
